One Sided Window

on

Perhaps it was coincidence that it was one of the longest and hardest goodbyes I’ve ever had to do. It felt like just a moment ago that we laughed and looked into each other’s eyes; standing so close with an arbitrary space between us and yet it always felt so far away. What feels likes years now (maybe it has been?), beside myself doubt is allowed to creep in and even though you were still standing in front of me, it was certain that your departures always left me empty so that is how it must feel. That’s how it did feel, but not this time. A quick chuckle, a tiny smirk and a glance downwards later, that doubt had spun to certainty.

It’s a bit bizarre when one truly thinks about it. In this moment, memory serves like a coloring book that’s ready to be filled in with whatever colors fit the picture. As if shadows weren’t filled in while simultaneously requiring showing a yearning to be more than just a transient shade of being. We feel that it cries out to us, so we recall what we can and yet we are constantly reminded that even our singular perspective is inaccurate at best and created at better-than-worst. Were my memories of you like my memories of those moments I considered to be happy? The ones that I remembered when I glanced and saw you in my periphery, when we had amazing conversations or you told me it would be alright. It is possible that I just imagined it all. It is possible, but from now until the remainder of my time with you, I will believe it is real.

Now, standing or sitting as we may, there is an expectation on the world to prove it’s own existence. This is fascinating given our own uncertainty and consistent questioning of the singular sentience we have, so to require the world to prove itself when it cannot reminds me of why I find myself deeper in love. With you, it is not necessary and never was. You allow free speech, venting without judgement, criticism with love and a reflect everything that is and is not at the same time. Despite our similarities, it cannot be said that my flaws are seen on you and it is in this fact that makes me see through you what one can be. It’s as beautiful an idea as you.

It’s time to change pace a little bit and so I enter into the singular. It was not in some flight of fancy that I decided that I’d leap over my insecurities to embrace all of that which you brought into my life. At first, I was uncertain that you’d want to listen to me because every time I saw you around, you seemed disinterested in whatever I was doing. I realized, soon after, that I was merely projecting a separation of Self that I wished were me. The individual that smiles, laughs and accepts without judgement — you were and are the personification of a dialectic — and that’s wondrous.

And here I stand in front of you one last time, wanting to confess this aloud to you but knowing that you know. I couldn’t break things off and was unwilling to fill the space that some referred to as a void, for there was no emptiness nor infinite beginnings and ends  — just a memory of a person that was no more you than me. Half a degree to the left and frozen in time, my refusal is lifting because you complete the degree, warming my heart that you were there for me once and always shall be. I love you.

 

My mirror.

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